


Riding the Kraken

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Tortall - Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-24
Updated: 2010-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-07 12:45:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In times of war, some reasons weigh more heavily than others; sometimes you do anything you can to escape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reasons

He is betrothed – to her other best friend – and she is in love with someone else. Technically speaking, she is his commanding officer. They are bound by duty, surrounded by work that needs doing, charged with setting an example. The camp is too crowded, headquarters too small, walls too thin for them to ever keep a secret. They have been friends for nine years. One of them could die at any time.

These are the reasons Kel gives herself not to follow Neal when he goes walking alone at night, not to touch him, not to kiss him. Not again.

_They have been friends for nine years. One of them could die at any time._

These are the reasons Kel follows Neal, every night, and loses herself in his kisses.


	2. Riding the Kraken

The first time is in the aftermath of a skirmish. They turn to each other with the simple euphoria of knowing they are both alive. "Riding the kraken," men call it: drunk with war, momentarily convinced of their invincibility, too shocked to yet grieve their losses.

This time New Hope has not lost a single soldier, the gates close on the last patrol, and Kel breathes a sigh of relief. "Now what?" she asks, removing her helmet. Neal is suddenly beside her, leading her down from the wall.

"We made it," he says, nudging her as they step inside the guard tower. "Let's celebrate."

She turns to him, grinning, and leans in to press her lips to his.


	3. Complete Madness

Later Kel wonders at her boldness, wonders how she managed to correctly guess what Neal meant by, "celebrate." But they know each other so well, and read each other so perfectly, that she did guess right.

As soon as she kisses him, his mouth opens to hers. They are both in armor still, only helmets removed: artificially restricted to face, head, neck. "This is madness," he says, as his lips trail down her neck. His hands, gauntlet-clad like hers, rest at her armored waist in a parody of a lover's embrace. She, meanwhile, fruitlessly attempts to reach under his chainmail shirt.

"Complete madness," she agrees. And then, without thinking, she adds, "Let's go somewhere we can undress. Now."


	4. Not Simple

It isn't that simple, of course. Kel, commander of the fort, has reports to receive; Neal, their chief healer, has wounded to see to. There are children waiting to help them out of their armor.

Kel should be glad. By the time the necessary tasks are completed, they could have – should have – forgotten the whole thing. At this point, it barely counts as unfaithfulness: what's a couple of post-battle kisses between friends? Nothing has really changed, and no one even has to know.

But hours later, when she makes it back to her room at last, he is waiting.


	5. A Good Place

Kel pushes the door shut, toes off her boots, and begins to unlace her tunic before movement draws her attention toward her bed.

"Neal!"

By the light of her candle, she can just see his face as he stands. She should tell him to leave, or at least ask him what he's doing here. Instead she takes a step forward.

They meet in the middle of the room, picking up exactly where they left off in the guard tower. This time his hands are strong and supple on her waist, and it's easy for her to reach under his tunic and feel the warm skin of his back.

"Is this a good place?" he asks, between kisses. "For undressing?"

She tugs his shirt over his head. "What do you think?"


	6. In Silence

They make love in near-silence, mouths on each other's skin to muffle the small noises they can't help making.

"Neal," Kel says, a world of desire in a whisper beside his ear. She heard him moaning about love often enough when they were pages (in a different context, admittedly), but she wants desperately to hear the real thing: to make him cry out, to hear the reactions that come naturally as he responds to her. She never has, and knows she never will.

Then his tongue curls around her nipple as his hand slides over her backside, and she forgets everything else. It's all she can do to stifle the cry of joy that comes from so far inside her.


End file.
